Chapter 4
Annie and Nick walked towards the elevator. "Vot chyort! When you find whoever's responsible for this, I have a few things I'd like to say to him," Annie said, as Nick pressed the button for the first floor.
"What does that mean?" Nick asked, referring to the Russian phrase. "I'm assuming it wasn't overly polite, in which case, I fully agree with you."
"That would be telling, now wouldn't it?" Annie smirked.
"Aw, now you got me curious," Nick said with a big grin, idly leaning against the elevator wall.
"Oh, all right. The literal translation is 'there is the devil.' It's essentially the Russian equivalent of 'damn it.'" The elevator stopped, and Nick and Annie stepped out. "This way," she said, turning down the hall.
Nick and Annie stepped into the room, the door squeaking as it closed behind them. "Hey Jeff, hey Alex – long time, no see," Nick grinned. "Alex, the hospital called; Mr. Kusnetzov is awake. Annie and I were going to go and speak with him – what do you think about bringing Pavlik along?"
"Let's do it," Alex replied. "Pavlik needs his dad right now, and I expect his dad probably needs him too. And with his being a foreign national, the logistics of taking him into temporary Child Services custody get even messier than usual. But I'll come along, if you don't mind."
"Wouldn't have it any other way," Nick assured her.
Annie walked up to the sleeping boy and put a hand on his shoulder. "Pavlik," she said quietly. The boy woke up, startled. ~Do you want to go see Papa?~
Pavlik looked up, sleep leaving his eyes in an instant. ~Can I?~
"Da." She smiled and handed the child his shoes. As he put them on, she turned back to Nick. "Nick, this is Pavlik Kusnetzov, I suggest you say 'privyet.' Pavlik, eto Nick."
"Privyet, Nick." Pavlik pronounced the "i" as a long "e."
"Privyet, Pavlik." Nick smiled at the little boy. He was remarkably cute and his smile—complete with a gap from a recently lost baby tooth—was endearing. Nick turned to Annie. "Did I pronounce that right?"
"More or less, yeah." She turned to Pavlik. ~Let's go.~ The four of them headed out to the parking lot, Pavlik clinging to Annie's wrist as Nick fished the keys to the Tahoe out of his back pocket and unlocked the doors.
Nodding to Alex to take the front seat, Annie helped Pavlik into the backseat and made sure his seatbelt was fastened before walking around the back bumper and climbing in behind Nick. ~It isn't far, Pavlik~
Country music began playing as Nick turned the key in the ignition. He followed the road almost mechanically, focus on the traffic and the stoplights; he had driven this road countless times before, and knew the route in his sleep.
Pavlik blinked; country music wasn't generally played much in Russia. He stared out the window, fascinated by all the bright lights, as Vegas spelled out its wonders in neon and argon. Moscow certainly had streets with similar lights, even similar gaudy casinos, but the foreign language of the signs somehow made everything more exotic.
After ten minutes, Nick pulled into the parking lot of Desert Palm Hospital. Away from the hypnotic bright lights, Pavlik clung to Annie's wrist once more as they walked up to the entrance.
Once inside, Nick walked up to the reception desk and showed his ID. "I'm Nick Stokes from the crime lab; we're here to see Mr. Kusnetzov."
"Sure, room 203," the receptionist replied, pointing towards the elevator. "Second door to your left as you get off the elevator."
"Thank you." He turned back to Alex, Annie and Pavlik. "C'mon guys. This way." They headed over to the elevator, built extra large to accommodate gurneys.
Pavlik's eyes widened. Most Russian elevators were small and dark; this one was not only huge, but well-lit.
"Culture shock," Annie remarked to Nick and Alex after pressing the button, seeing Pavlik's wide eyes. "It's actually much worse coming here than going there."
"Really?" Nick asked, just as the elevator stopped.
"Yep."
"Second door, she said?" Alex asked as the elevator stopped and the doors hissed open.
"Yeah, there's Brass," Nick said, pointing to the bench outside room 203. "He's had a busy night tonight." Nick waved at the detective. "What's the news?"
Brass got up and walked over, wrinkling his nose slightly. He hated the disinfectant smell of hospitals. "Relatively good, under the circumstances. One bullet to the chest; missed the heart and lungs, though you wouldn't have guessed from the amount it bled. Went through a couple of units of blood, but he's stable. Staff says it'll be fine for Pavlik to stay with his dad for tonight; they'll put a cot on the floor for him. Interviewing him can wait till tomorrow."
"High time we got some good news tonight," Annie remarked. "Let's go." She knocked on the door of room 203, turned on the tape recorder, and walked in. "Zdravstsvuitye, Andrei Vladimirovich," she said. ~My name is Anne Rose. This is Detective Brass, Nick Stokes from the crime lab, and Alex Wilson with Child Services. I think you already know Pavlik.~ She noticed a Russian-English dictionary sitting on a table near the bed. 'Good,' she thought. 'That should be enough for them to ask for water or juice or something if they want it once I leave.'
"Papa!" Pavlik ran up to the bed.
His father turned to him, his brown hair sweaty as if he had been worrying, even panicking. ~Pavlik, my little Pavlik. I'm very glad to see you.~ He wiped a tear from his eye as he took his son by the hand, flinching as the IV needle in his arm shifted slightly. He looked up at the three adults standing by the door. ~And my wife? How is she?~
Pavlik's smile vanished as he was reminded of his mother.
Annie sighed. For the second time tonight, she would have to be the bearer of bad news. ~She's dead.~
~No, Sonya, not you.~ The man began crying along with his child. He crossed himself, confirming Annie's hunch that he was probably a practicing Orthodox. Annie thought she caught the words "God have mercy," but they were too quiet for her to be sure.
Nick sighed. It never got any easier, but somehow it was worse this time, when he was powerless to say anything. He walked across the sterile white room and picked up a box of Kleenex, moving it closer to Mr. Kusnetzov and Pavlik. "Here," he said, sniffling ever so slightly. "You might need these." He knew his words would not be understood, but it wasn't the words that were important.
The man on the bed blew his nose and looked up. ~I know you want to ask me some questions, but, please, not right now.~ His eyes, pleading, were rimmed with tears as he looked at the three Americans by the doorway.
Annie blinked back tears herself. "Nyet, ne seychas. Zavtra." She turned off the tape recorder. "Come on, guys, let's let them be for the night."
The man looked up from his child. "Spacibo."
"Pozhalusta." Annie left, closing the door quietly behind her, leaving father and son to cry the night through. She checked her watch. Four o'clock already. "Time flies. Let's head back to the lab."
"Soon as I get Mr. Kusnetzov's clothes and that bullet," Nick replied.
Alex nodded. "I'm going to stay here for the time being."
"Thanks, Alex," Brass nodded. "I'm gonna head on out of here," he said. "My pager just went off—again."
"All right, see you around," Nick said. "Come on, Annie. They should be able to get us the evidence at the reception desk." Annie followed the CSI to the elevator and back to the desk. They had the clothes and the bullet waiting for them. Nick and Annie headed out to the parking lot, and Nick fired up the Tahoe. "Speaking of culture shock, you look like you're feeling some yourself." He clicked off the radio.
"Yeah," Annie replied. "You could say that." She sighed. "Does it ever get any easier?"
"No, it doesn't. But you get used to it after a while." Nick kept his eyes on the road as he drove back to CSI. "I've gotta say, though, it's even harder when you can't speak to them directly. There isn't really anything you can say that'll help, but it's nice to preserve the illusion." It started raining—hard. He reached across the steering wheel and turned on the windshield wipers, as water cascaded down the glass.
The rain seemed to be daring Annie to cry. She blinked back tears, and rubbed her eyes. "I just keep realizing that that could be so many people I know—on both sides of the Atlantic."
"Yeah, it could—but it's not. As horrible as it sounds, you gotta remember that it's not. Or else you just fall apart."
"I can't seem to keep the two separate. Guess that's why you're out here, and I'm in the lab." Annie rubbed her eyes again.
"That part does get easier eventually. There are still cases that get you every once in a while, though." Nick blinked and thought of his personal case-demon, Kristy. She had turned out to be the one he knew. He wasn't sure he'd ever really forgive himself. He pulled into the CSI garage. "If you need to talk, come find me." He popped the trunk.
Annie helped Nick carry in the sealed bags of evidence. "Nick..," she said, looking up. "Thanks."